Reality Television, 1969

for my daughter

I thought I knew the way through words to tell again the soldier’s take, how language harbors expectations—and not just the wasteful carnage of youthful courage cut down for a culture that needs their blood to purpose what little poetry can be made of their death— what marks those boys slaughtered: they were sent like you flush the toilet to a war no one wanted any more, so they gave it to their children, let them play with death watched them die on TV during supper.